


ᚦᛩᛪ(Thirteen) Years is a Long Time

by thefarthestpointfromthesun



Series: Celebrities are People Too (or the Royalty is Crazy) [1]
Category: Original Work, The Duocardian Verse
Genre: Aromantic Artemis Blackhawke, Asexual Novae Blackhawke, Demisexual Artemis Blackhawke, F/F, Genderfluid Character, Grayromantic Novae Blackhawke, Interviews, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Nonbinary Character, Original Character(s), Other, original non-human characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:09:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24410335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefarthestpointfromthesun/pseuds/thefarthestpointfromthesun
Summary: Cambion gets the interview of a lifetime. Novae info-dumps. Artemis intrudes. Also, there's a fire, but that's not important.
Relationships: Artemis Blackhawke/Novae Blackhawke
Series: Celebrities are People Too (or the Royalty is Crazy) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762804
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	ᚦᛩᛪ(Thirteen) Years is a Long Time

**Author's Note:**

> i might just squish this into one chapter when it's done ngl  
> i love artemis and novae and it shows!  
> -aph ☆

Honestly, Cambion hadn’t really anticipated getting the interview with Queen Novae. Ever since the Massacre, the press had not been allowed near the Three Queens’ Island, much less  _ on _ the island. Most of their colleagues had given up on ever getting anything aside from press conferences and watered-down public statements. Cambion didn’t blame them. It had been thirteen years and even the most resilient of journalists gave up at some point. But Cambion was too stubborn to ever relent, even when the only one who believed in them was their wife, and it had finally paid off. They were on a boat destined for the castle, the sea spray gently blowing in Cambion’s face. 

Cambion didn’t know what to expect from their first step upon the island. Fanfare? Maybe fireworks? But gravel was gravel, no matter the ground it covered. They didn’t have much time to take in the scenery and were quickly led to the fifteen-foot tall castle doors by a servant, who vanished once Cambion was inside. Another servant politely escorted them through the ornate halls, ending at a relatively simple oaken door. He rapped on the door before opening it and announced, “Cambion Hawkesfoot for you, my liege.”

“Ah, yes, the journalist. Come in.” Queen Novae’s voice, calm and elegant, seemed to resound through their head.  _ The recorded speeches don’t do her voice properly,  _ Cambion thought with no small amount of awe,  _ and her English is flawless _ . But it was no good to stand outside looking rather like a dumbstruck chicken, so they strode in with as much put-upon confidence as they could muster. 

The first thing they noticed was Her Majesty's arm. Logically, Cambion shouldn’t have been surprised by the robotic implement, but the loss had only been two years ago and the queen never had it naked like it was now, the wires and metal joints exposed like clear veins and tendons. They must have stared a bit too long, for the queen gently coughed, drawing them out of their mild shock and returning them to their normal professional attitude. So, as was proper, Cambion reached up, twisting their hand until they made a fist and bowed. “Your Majesty. It is an honour.” 

“The honour is all mine, I assure you. And please, just call me Novae. The titles really do get awful after the first fifty times.” Cambion’s head jerked up, meeting their queen-no, Novae’s bright golden eyes and realised that she was completely serious. 

“Well, Novae, shall we get to business?” The queen’s name sat heavily in their mouth, but they put it aside. What kind of reporter would they be if they let discomfort get in the way of a good source, after all. 

Novae smiled, a beautiful thing, bright and dangerous, and all Cambion could think was  _ Wow, this queen is really hot _ . “Yeah. Cambion, was it? Please, sit, and question away.”

They took the nearest seat, which happened to be a rather comfortable armchair, and got out their tablet. “This first one, I must admit, is mainly to satisfy my own curiosity. Why give an interview after so long? And why you, specifically? I would have thought one of the other queens would be more willing to do this. From the reports of you, it seems as if you are a more,” Cambion paused, the right word on the tip of their tongue, “private person than the rest of the high royalty.”

“It’s true, I am more of a “private person” as you said. I would much rather be in my lab than here, doing this interview.” Novae took a breath, adjusting her round glasses, “But Artemis and Venus have some bad experiences with the press, and didn’t even want to think about this. I was the one who thought it was time to open up a little more, especially with two of us having near-death experiences these past couple years, so here I am.” She laughed as if nearly being killed was a regular occurrence. Although now that Cambion thought about it, they seemed to happen rather often to this generation of royals, but they weren’t going to ask. They ran a hand through their bright blue-green hair, stopping when they hit one of their antlers and asked the next question. “You mentioned working in your lab. Can you share anything about the research you are doing, or do I have to wait until it comes out officially?” 

Novae straightened up slightly, the tips of her brown hair glowing brighter. “Of course, although it will have to be just a little bit because I don’t want to have legal problems.”

“Understandable.”

“I’m actually working on several separate projects right now. I found a calculation in the system of the interspatial transports that we use to go between the colonies on Graisian, Karchisian, and the rest of the planets that could be improved. I’ve been testing out simulations and I think I might have nearly cracked it. If I’m right, it should reduce the number of misalignments that happen when you remerge.” As she was explaining, she gestured passionately, looking more enthusiastic than any of her public appearances. “I’m also working on an update to the public service robots to make them more efficient and empathetic. The humans have been making some progress with rudimentary machine learning, and I’ve been looking at that for inspiration. They’ve managed to come about it in a completely different way than we did, which is fascinating. Their base computer language is so focused on solving problems instead of storing and sending information, and I think using some of their ideas could be very helpful to our systems as a whole. The rest of my projects I’ve been roped into by my fellow queens, who always seem to need something coded for one of their wild ideas.” Novae smiled, running a steel hand through her hair, and continued. 

“Venus has got it into her head that we should have clothes that fit us when we shift forms, which is a pretty good idea, and I’m doing the software for her “smart cloth” as she likes to call it. And my lovely spouse-” Novae was cut off from her rather impressive ramble by a person hurling themselves through a window, smashing the glass and tumbling to the floor. Cambion raised their arms to shield their face from the shards, but Novae didn’t even flinch. The glass ripped into her pale skin making little cuts that glowed purple and faded in a matter of seconds. 

The person, now identifiable as Queen Artemis, stood up and brushed some pieces of the window from their bright green mohawk. “You called, my dear?” they asked in a completely different accent than their wife, smiling like this was a normal, everyday thing. “Sorry about the window, by the way.” They waved their dark hand, eyes flashing silver, and the glass floated back into the frame and merged as if they had never been shattered in the first place. Cambion’s very obvious gaping was interrupted by the sound of Novae, one of three queens of a rather prominent country, banging her head on the mahogany desk. She raised a finger and Cambion thought she said, “Is it too late for a divorce,” but the queen’s words were muffled by the desk, so they couldn’t be sure. The sentiment was the same, though, for Queen Artemis took a step back and put a hand on each of their hearts. “The betrayal! After all these years together, this is what drives us apart? Love of my life, please, I’ll do anything!” they exclaimed in mock hurt, dropping to a kneel in front of Novae, who just groaned exasperatedly.

“After almost twenty years of my life with your idiotic self, this isn’t anything new, my moonbeam,” she said, raising her head just slightly so that her fond smile was not missed by any of the others in the room. “But was the window really necessary?” The couple caught each other’s eyes and fell silent. Cambion, suddenly realising that a private mental conversation was taking place, averted their gaze and tried to quell the flush of lilac that was trying to cover their cheeks and the tips of their pointed ears. The awkward silence, at least for the reporter trying to pointedly Not Look at the queens making mushy faces at each other, was broken by a frantic knock on the door. 

“Oh no,” Queen Artemis said in the most deadpan tone Cambion had ever heard. 

“Come in,” Novae called, before turning and fixing a glare that could wither stone on her spouse. “What did you do?” 

Before Queen Artemis could even begin to answer, the door opened and a harried servant came tumbling in. “Your majesty, there’s a fire in Lab #4, and we can’t find Queen Artemis any-oh.” He cut himself off upon seeing the other queen in the room, pulling himself together like only a practised servant could. 

“I’m gonna be honest, I wasn’t even using Lab #4, so I’m pretty sure that fire wasn’t my fault; but there’s like a five percent chance that it was me.” Queen Artemis stood up from their kneel and stalked over to the unfortunate servant. “Come on, Flyson, take me to the scene of the crime.” Their bright green cat-like tail whipped around and pointed at the servant, Flyson, who led them out into the hall, closing the door with a small thud. 


End file.
